As everybody probably knows, Stephen King’s Cujo is about a rabid dog (a St. Bernard in the movie but was it also that in the book? I don’t remember! It’s been over three decades since I read it! Should I even be doing a book review of a book I haven’t read in a third of a century?!) which means it’s not really much of a horror book. I guess maybe some people are scared of dogs and everybody should be scared of rabid dogs. But is that really enough to base a horror novel on? Not really which is why Stephen King introduces some other creepy factors like the ghost thing in the kid’s closet and the strangler running around Maine strangling people. Unless that was The Dead Zone.
I suppose it would be scary to be locked in a hot car while a rabid dog decides to not let you out because I guess the dog isn’t just rabid but also a huge jerk? It’s not like the book was written before there was a cure for rabies. Knowing that rabies can be cured, maybe beat the crap out of the dog with a shovel and then go get some shots? If this book were set in 1884, I’d understand why nobody would want to get out of their covered wagon to beat the dog to death because one little bite and it’s all over! But by the late twentieth century, we had so much more medical and dog-killing technology that getting trapped in a hot car by your rabid dog just seems like maybe you brought that on yourself.
The end of the book is the best part because the rest of the book says, “Look at this scary dog! It’s going to eat your face! Kill it! Get away! Ahhhhhh!” But then the last page is all, “You know what? The dog didn’t mean it. Give it a break! Have some sympathy! Don’t be such an unfeeling jerk!” It’s like what do you want out of me, Stephen King?! To be frightened or to feel guilty?!
Four stars!
I suppose it would be scary to be locked in a hot car while a rabid dog decides to not let you out because I guess the dog isn’t just rabid but also a huge jerk? It’s not like the book was written before there was a cure for rabies. Knowing that rabies can be cured, maybe beat the crap out of the dog with a shovel and then go get some shots? If this book were set in 1884, I’d understand why nobody would want to get out of their covered wagon to beat the dog to death because one little bite and it’s all over! But by the late twentieth century, we had so much more medical and dog-killing technology that getting trapped in a hot car by your rabid dog just seems like maybe you brought that on yourself.
The end of the book is the best part because the rest of the book says, “Look at this scary dog! It’s going to eat your face! Kill it! Get away! Ahhhhhh!” But then the last page is all, “You know what? The dog didn’t mean it. Give it a break! Have some sympathy! Don’t be such an unfeeling jerk!” It’s like what do you want out of me, Stephen King?! To be frightened or to feel guilty?!
Four stars!
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